Friday, May 31, 2019

Instant Essay -- Creative Writing Essays

InstantIll always remember Instant. That was the nickname the men had tacked ontothe muscled giant that wielded the M60 in my unit. Instant was picayune forInstant Death. And Ill always remember the first time I saw Instant inaction.I was a new Lieutenant assigned to Vietnam. screen then, the Army didnt try todevelop any team spirit within the corps men were rotated frequently beforeany friendships developed. Consequently, my men were a group of strangers united only when by the need to survive. They were eighteen- and nineteen-year-olds with theeyes of old men. My first real assignment was to check a tiny hamlet, Dien Hoa.Army cognizance believed the Viet Cong were operating from Dien Hoa. Our jobwas to determine if that was correct.We rode in an olive-drab chopper. The whooping blades of the helicopter giveus a little relief from the relentless heat of Nam the blades cut the thick,humid air and pushed a breeze downward over the passenger compartment.Soon, we circled the landing zone. The LZ looked cold. Theres only one wayto find out if it is really cold, I survey as I double checked my M16. If noone zapped us when we entered, it was cold. If they did, it wasnt.Lock and load, I yelled.The helicopter circled low and slowed down until it almost hovered four feetfrom the ground. The inlet gunner mashed the spade grips on his .30 caliber M60machine gun. The gun spewed bullets over the field below us.It was time to jump off the skids while we skimmed to a higher place the surface of thelush, greens valley. My stomach felt like it was turning wrong-side-out.We dropped into the grass, stumbling under heavy packs and the weight of ammoand weapons. I wondered about snakes and hoped the groan I disquieted when I hit theground was drowned by the noise of the helicopters. Though the helicopter gunnercontinued firing into the heavy growth to the north of them, there was no returnfire. We were safe for the moment.OK, I yelled signaling with my hands the way youre n ot supposed to. Handsignals are a good way to arrange yourself as the leader. Its just the thing enemysnipers watch for. But few of my twenty-seven men could hear me over the roarand firing of the helicopters. I had no choice. Move out. On the double, Iordered. The choppers lifted. We were on our own.The soldiers started with the usual complaining b... ...prized buck. We made careful, deliberate shots. One after another, theblack, running forms crumpled. With a final flurry of shooting, only a loneCharlie managed to escape into the grove of trees below.The bodies of the VC dotted the open hillside. Sporadic last shots ended thelives of the few wounded who continued to stir below us. drop silencereigned for a few moments, then Blake yelled an obscenity at the last Cong whohad eluded us.Silence.We did it, I simply said, my words falling flat.A weak revolutionize went down the line one man dropped to his knees and cried. Eventhough wed all felt as good as suddenly, we realized we had won.Afterward, waiting with the wounded and dead for dustoff, I thought about thefirefight. Instants selfless deed had saved our skins. It was little wonder themen had so much respect for the soldier. I studied him for a moment. He sat byhimself beneath a tree, carefully cleaning his M60 like a mother washing a baby.He wore a speckle over his right eye and a second on his arm except for thoseminor wounds, he had managed to come through the fight uninjured. And hedshown a green lieutenant and his men what true bravery was.

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